Bar Trip
by SciFiNutTX
Summary: L&D 'verse - Dean and Hillary hang out in a bar, but somehow it can never just be a real day off from the job.


It is my editor/theological advisor's birthday! Happy Birthday **_charis-kalos_**! She specially requested a fic in the L&D 'verse. This also goes out to Silver Ruffian, who tells me I need to write more about 'her girl' Hillary.

Note: This story is in the Light&Dark 'verse, so if you haven't read it, this will make NO sense what-so-ever.

**Bar Trip**

Dean didn't need the dark shades all the time, but he had taken a liking to them. It was easier than remembering to tone down his eyes, especially in a dark bar. Hillary trotted close by his left side sniffing the air. She was probably hoping for some snacks or hand-outs. Some of these places served hot food, right off the grill.

He chose a table in the far corner, where he could keep an eye on the whole room. Hill preferred sitting outside, but a cold front had blown in late last night and there was a drizzling rain outside that could chill a body right to the bone. Dean shook his head, knocking excess water from his hair. Taking the cue, Hillary gave herself a grand shake. Dean dropped heavily into the chair against the wall, facing the door. Hill stretched out on the floor beside him with a grunt. They had been walking in the drizzling rain for the past hour and between the exercise and the weather his back was starting to complain.

"Order?" the bartender, a clean-cut middle aged guy with short hair, called out to him.

"Beer," Dean hollered back. Hill grumbled at him. "And a bowl of water." He motioned down at the dog.

The bartender gave him a nod before turning away. Huh. This place must already be dog-friendly. The guy approached their table a minute later with a mug of beer and a bowl. He set the mug on the table before lowering the bowl to the floor.

"Normally we ask the four-leggers to stay outside," he told Dean, "but the weather is crappy. Besides, it's not like we're real busy today."

"Thanks," Dean replied as he reached for his beer. "We appreciate it." He heard Hillary tasting the water. Apparently satisfied, Hill plopped back down on the floor. "I don't suppose you have food here?"

"Mainly appetizer-type stuff. Here." He yanked a small laminated menu off the next table to hand over. "There's a stuffed potato skin thing with cheese and bacon. Real popular with the four-leggers."

Hillary grumbled that she would rather be called a dog than a 'four-legger'. Dean bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he rubbed her stomach with his foot. "We'll take one of those," he told the bartender, tossing the menu back on the table.

The guy nodded, stepping back for a better look at Hillary. "She's a beauty."

"I know," Dean replied, pleased with the compliment. "Thanks."

He waited until the bartender was out of hearing range. "Like him better now?"

Hillary snorted and shook her head. Then she demanded to know when Sam would come.

"When he gets good and ready," Dean replied as he leaned back with his beer. Good thing the chairs here had padded backs. Lucky. "Don't tell me you don't already know when he'll be here."

Hill went silent. Yeah, he figured as much. Actually, having her bonded with Sam had been working out great. Dean could keep tabs on his little brother just by having Hill with him. It was awesome. If Sam managed to get himself into any trouble, Hill knew instantly and could lead Dean straight there. As long as Hill wasn't worried, Dean didn't have to worry. His blood pressure hadn't ever been this low, not that he would tell Sam that little fact. His former high blood pressure wasn't any of his brother's business anyway.

With his foot, Dean tugged another chair over to prop up his feet. He stretched out, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease. Yeah, this was the life: cold beer, warm dog, almost empty bar, and nothing to hunt. With a sigh of contentment, he raised his mug to his lips.

Then the front door opened. More from habit than anything, Dean checked out the newest patron to the bar. A woman walked in, hair plastered to her head and clothes drenched.

"Have any coffee?" she shouted towards the bar. The bartender gave her a thumbs-up and she walked that way, puddles forming wherever she took a step. She was freaking soaked.

Concerned, Dean shot Hillary an evaluating look before deciding to hell with it, he was going to talk to her. If the dog decided to be a jealous mutt, that was her problem. He carried his beer over to the bar, where the helpful bartender had just poured a cup of coffee.

"Th-thanks," the woman stammered as her dead-white hands reached for the cup. Dean noticed the chilled trembling movements too. The nasty drizzle outside couldn't be responsible for this; she looked more like she had just been dunked in a pool. In the Arctic.

"I hate it when that happens," Dean said conversationally as he exuded comfort and warmth.

The woman glanced over as she sipped her coffee, then she dropped the mug on the bar, cursing softly under her breath as she rubbed her hands. Coffee sloshed out of the mug, but it remained upright and intact, still holding most of the steaming liquid.

"Hey," Dean waved at the bartender. "How about some paper towels?"

While the bartender wiped up the bar, Dean removed several paper towels from the roll. He folded them into thirds, which he wrapped around the mug. "There, that should help," he said as he pushed it back towards her.

"Thanks," she whispered, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Dean watched as she held the mug again. This time she was able to take a long drink while holding it in both hands.

"Better?" he asked with a smile as she set the mug on the counter.

A grumble at his side informed him Hillary had given in to curiosity. _You're out with me,_ she growled at him, _don't even think about it_.

Dean chuckled before cuffing her lightly on the side of the head. "Go lay down," he ordered. "Your snack will be ready soon."

With an annoyed huff, Hill lumbered back to the table. She gave him a long, hard look before plopping back down on the floor.

"You brought your dog?" the woman asked him, her disbelief evident in her voice and face.

Dean smiled at her. "Everywhere," he admitted. "She's kind of jealous," he whispered, "so if you want to give me your number, you'll have to be sneaky about it."

She laughed at him, her trembling hands reaching for her mug again.

Dean motioned at her hands. "Gimme those," he demanded. "Come on, I don't bite." Dean jerked his head at Hillary as he covered her freezing hands with his own. "That's Hillary's job."

The woman laughed again. "Does she do that often?"

"Tell you what," he said, "I'll make a deal with you. I'll answer one of your questions if you answer one of mine."

She gave him an odd look, her head tilting to the side, causing water to run off over her shoulder and cascade down on to the bar. The bartender swooped over to wipe it up before she noticed.

"All right," she replied slowly. "So you take your dog everywhere and offer to warm up strange women's hands. I take it the dog doesn't bite?"

"That's a question," Dean replied, gently pushing energy to restore the blood flow in her hands. "Better believe she bites. But usually not people I like."

"Usually?" she asked, her voice going up in pitch as she glanced anxiously towards the table.

Dean laughed at her, rubbing her hands to encourage the slow restoration of circulation. "That's two questions. I believe it's my turn." He waited for her to look at him before asking, "Go swimming in this kind of weather often?"

She started to pull her hands away, but Dean wouldn't let her. He warmed the air around them, hopefully helping to take some of the chill off of her. The front door opened again, this time a man who was completely dry walked in. He sat at a table near the bar.

"Well?" Dean asked, rubbing at her hands. "It was a fair question. Either that, or you must've been out at the duck pond and fell in."

Now she chuckled, but it sounded sad and dark. "I wish," she mumbled.

"Name's Dean," he offered. What was it going to take to win just a sliver of trust here? "Now what's your name?"

The smile was small but genuine. "Gloria. Uh, I think my hands are all right now."

Dean opened his hands to reveal hers, which were a dark red rapidly fading to healthy pink. He released her, which allowed Gloria to return to her coffee. Keeping the air around her warm, Dean sipped his beer.

"Usually," he decided to answer her second question, "means sometimes I'd like to talk to the person Hill wants to run off, but she always thinks she knows better." He shrugged and shifted his gaze back to her. "So what were you doing out swimming in this weather? College hazing?"

Gloria chuckled again. "No, I'm not that lucky. At least then I'd have a good excuse."

Dean could feel the dude at the table listening in. Literally. He could _feel_ it.

"So what happened? Freak flooding? Oh, I know, a rainstorm inside your car," Dean suggested with a grin.

She laughed this time. Gloria shook her head and sent droplets of water everywhere, including on Dean. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she gushed, reaching for the roll of paper towels still on the bar.

"Nah, it's fine," Dean assured her as he wiped a hand down his shirt. He wondered if the eavesdropping dude was stalking this chick, pushing her into swimming pools. Okay, that would be monumentally weird, granted, but there was no telling what people would do. "But you were about to tell me why you look like you just came from fully-clothed swim practice."

Her brow furrowed and she bit down on her lower lip. "I'm not sure," Gloria said slowly. "One minute I was at home, petting my cat and watching the news, and the next I'm in the middle of someone's swimming pool." She frowned. "I vaguely remember leaving home, but it's all in a haze. It was like being stuck in a nightmare and I couldn't wake up, so I kind of jumped into the pool."

Gloria held her dripping arms outwards. "I'm awake now," she said bitterly.

Demon. Dean turned slowly to glare at the eavesdropper.

"Do you always wear sunglasses when it's raining out?" Gloria asked him.

Dean slowly removed his shades, keeping his gaze pinned to the dude at the next table. "Nope." He set the shades down without looking.

It had taken some practice, which drove Sam absolutely nuts for weeks, but Dean had managed to figure out how to put a room on pause. He could do it up to a city block, if there weren't too many people in that block. The more people there were, the more difficult it was. Dean put the room on pause now, glaring at his current objective.

He turned slowly on the barstool, not trusting his abilities to freeze a demon. They had their own set of rules. Eavesdropping dude looked around the room, a curious expression on his face.

"You shouldn't be able to do that," he said slowly.

Dean sat opposite him at the table. "What happened?" he demanded. "Get your ass kicked out by a girl?"

"No," eavesdropping dude replied, "I was helping the girl."

"How?" Dean demanded. "By dunking her in a pool of water?"

"It worked," the dude replied sternly. "She's fine. Wet, but fine. The only reason I followed her here was to be sure. I didn't know I'd run into you. She's supposed to be my case."

Dean frowned at him. "Christo," he tried.

The dude's eyes flared with a golden brown light. Nothing demonic there.

"Oh," Dean relaxed and leaned back in his chair. "You should've just said so."

"I believe I did," the angel pointed out.

"Yeah. Sorry." Dean held out his hand. "Dean Winchester."

The angel gave him an evaluating look as he shook. "Castiel." He motioned to the room. "So how long are you going to keep them in suspense?"

Dean shrugged. "Until you tell me what happened. Demon, right?"

Castiel nodded. "The odd thing was, she was aware and fighting it. That's why I came, to see if we could tilt the balance in her favor." His dark penetrating gaze settled on her. "She's important."

"How?" Dean asked, also turning to look at Gloria.

"I don't know," Castiel said in the same serious tone. "But she is. There is a plan."

O-kay. "Yeah, all right," Dean said quickly, standing up. "I guess I've had the place on pause long enough. Want me to back off?"

Castiel shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't...uh..." His lips pressed together tightly. "Your people skills are better than mine."

Dean gave him a look of disbelief. "That's not saying much, dude."

Castiel's gaze snapped to him. "I'd heard that you don't give yourself enough credit. Now I believe it."

"Need to know anything specific?" Dean asked, ignoring the comment, while feeling a bit annoyed that angels had been talking about him behind his back. It was high time to have a talk with Mike.

"Just that she will be all right," Castiel replied, his gaze shifting back to the woman.

Dean slid on to the bar stool as he allowed time to pick back up. What had they been talking about?

"So why do you wear the sunglasses?" Gloria asked him.

"What?" Dean asked with a grin. "Don't they make me look cool?"

Gloria returned his smile. "Oh, very cool," she said with a laugh. Her hands made a sweeping motion to encompass all of Dean. "It goes with the whole 'bad boy' look." She laughed again and shook her head. This time the water droplets dissipated before they could land anywhere.

Dean was trying to be subtle as he dried her out. He usually sucked at subtle, so this was taking some effort.

Gloria sipped her coffee, which Dean was making sure didn't cool off too much. "Okay, that was a question, so I get one."

Dean chuckled and rested an elbow on the bar. "Shoot."

"Did you raise the dog from a puppy?" Gloria looked over at Hillary.

"Nope. I was adopted," Dean told her. She seemed to be feeling better now.

"You mean, you adopted the dog from a shelter, right?" Gloria asked.

Dean shook his head. "No, but it's a great story. I have some potato appetizer things coming, so why don't you join us. Besides," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "she gets kind of temperamental when I spend too much time with other women."

"Wuff!" Hillary glared at him over the far table.

Dean jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "See?"

Gloria studied them for a long moment before nodding. "All right. If you really want me to."

"Absolutely," Dean assured her. He grabbed her coffee and his beer before sliding off his stool. "Come on, the chairs are much more comfortable than some stupid bar stool."

As Dean relayed the story of how the huge dog, who now rested her head on his thigh, had aggressively adopted him and his brother, Gloria listened and laughed.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding!" she squealed when he reached the part about Hillary jumping through a window to stake-out his car.

"Nope." Dean noticed Castiel listening intently to the story. He motioned towards the door, hinting that the angel could let himself out. Instead Castiel leaned forward, paying rapt attention to them. Frigging great.

"Was she hurt?" Gloria leaned over to eye the dog. Hill ignored her.

"No, but I'm pretty sure she had a heck of a headache," Dean told her as he reached for another of the potato thingies. They were pretty good. He took a huge bite out of it, a little over half, before holding the rest out to Hillary. She took it gingerly from his fingers. Once his hand was clear, she snapped it up and ate it so fast he doubted she had time to even taste it. He chuckled as he chewed through his mouthful.

"How could you tell?" Gloria asked him.

His mouth still full, Dean rolled his eyes around and held his arms out like he was stumbling around in the dark. Gloria laughed at him again, her laughter growing lighter and cheerier the longer she stayed.

Hill pawed his knee as she grumbled that she had NOT acted that way and he was not supposed to be able to lie.

Dean swallowed what was left in his mouth. "You did too," he argued with the dog. "I thought you'd been hitting Bobby's beer until he pointed out the broken window." Dean buried his fingers in the dog's fur. "Possessive mutt."

Hillary made some agreeable grumbling noises as she leaned into his touch, her full weight on his leg.

Gloria's smile had become more of a permanent fixture on her face. "I like how you talk to her," she said. "Like she's a person. I talk to my cat like that and people think I'm crazy."

Hillary's head jerked up to glare at Gloria.

"Hey, hey," Dean admonished, grabbing at the dog's neck. "She didn't mean anything by it. Calm down."

Gloria's smile faded. "What? What'd I say?"

Dean pulled Hillary towards his leg, forcing her back into her earlier position. "You said you had a c-a-t," he explained. "Hillary kind of has feline issues."

Hill snorted loudly, declaring if he would allow her to take care of it, there wouldn't be any issues. Or any damn cats.

The grunt from a couple of tables over told Dean Hill's comment hit where it had been aimed, giving the angel a nasty headache. These days Dean felt just a twinge. Hillary knew it, too. Sneaky mutt. Dean still hadn't figured out how she knew when there was an angel around, but she always did.

"Forget it," he mumbled at her, his fingers still buried in her neck fur.

Gloria gave him a tentative smile. "Is she still upset with me?"

"Don't worry about it," Dean assured her. "She may come off tough, but she's really a sweetheart."

His words had the effect he expected. Hillary sighed heavily as she mumbled _loves me best_ and thrust her head against his stomach to reward his praise.

"See?" Dean said with a chuckle as he scratched under her chin while her tail thumped the floor heavily.

A tingling sensation at the back of his skull alerted Dean to the fact they were about to have company.

"Hey!" he called out to the bartender. "Another beer!"

The bartender waved back. Since they and the angel were the only patrons on this nasty day, the bartender came straight over with the beer. Gloria gave him an odd look.

"I don't drink beer," she said slowly.

Dean shook his head. "It's for my brother. Sam." He nodded at the front door, which slammed open with a burst of wind.

Sam stomped inside, throwing a fierce look at the door. He shoved it closed. After throwing Dean a nod in greeting, Sam headed their way. He paused by Castiel, eyes hardening as he looked at the angel.

Uh-oh. Okay, so there were drawbacks to Hill being bonded with Sam. Like now. Sam probably didn't even know why Castiel bugged him, but there he was, glaring at an angel.

"Sam!" Dean barked. "Got your beer over here."

Sam waved him off, pulling out a chair at Castiel's table.

"Crap," Dean breathed as he picked up his beer.

"Oh," Gloria whispered, leaning over the table. "Ex-boyfriend?"

Dean choked on the gulp of beer in his mouth, coughing desperately as he tried to breathe.

"Dean!" Sam was at his side, pounding on his back. "Dean? You all right?" One of Sam's hands gripped his bicep tight enough to bruise as waves of worry cascaded over Dean.

Dean nodded as he gasped for breath. He pointed out Castiel. "Gloria wanted to know if you were on good terms with...your ex!" He chuckled gleefully as Sam's eyes went wide.

"What?" Sam glared at Gloria. "And who are you?"

"Easy, Sammy," Dean chided. "Gloria's been keeping me company while I waited on your sorry ass."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam mumbled as he dropped into a chair. "Hey, these are comfortable." He ran a hand over the side of the padded seat. "No wonder you wanted to meet here."

Dean grinned. "And they have hot appetizer stuff. We've been munching down on stuffed potato skins."

"Did you talk to him?" Sam asked, jerking his head at the angel.

Dean shrugged. "Tell you about it later. Drink your beer."

Gloria turned around to look at the individual at the other table. "But I didn't see you talk to him," she protested. "Is everything all right?"

"It will be," Sam declared, "just as soon as he leaves."

Castiel's face soured as he stood and glared at Sam. With a final nod to Dean, he left.

"Now I can enjoy my beer," Sam said, picking up the frosty mug.

"So not on good terms, then," Gloria said with an evaluating look at Sam.

Sam turned to Dean. "And, again, who is she?"

Dean chuckled. "Sam, this is Gloria. She likes swimming with all her clothes on. Gloria, my brother Sam. It was a rough break-ow!"

The sharp kick to his shin had Hillary growling at Sam. Sam leaned over to whisper to the dog, "He had it coming and you know it."

Hillary's growl deepened. _Not hurt MY Food-boy._

"_My_ brother," Sam snapped back at the furry face.

_Mine_, Hillary replied on a snarl, teeth slightly bared.

When Sam bared his teeth in response, Dean figured this had gone far enough. "Break it up, you two," he snapped as he shoved Sam back. "Sam, I swear I'll pour that beer over your head. Hill, no more treats."

Sam pulled back with a puzzled expression. "Sorry, Dean. I, uh, I'm not sure what happened." His brow furrowed as he stared down at Hill and raked a hand through his hair.

Hillary planted herself between Dean's legs and thrust her head back at his chest with a snort for attention. Dean automatically reached down to scratch her throat. _Mine_, she repeated softly.

"Well I should probably be going," Gloria announced. "Now that I'm dry, it's time to go back out in the rain."

"Stay," Dean urged. "We can order more food. Sam hasn't eaten yet."

She shook her head with a smile. "Thanks, but my you-know-what is probably wondering where her food is. I don't think I fed her this morning."

"Then be careful," Dean advised.

She smiled at him as she stood. With a last nod to each of them, including Hillary, Gloria left, making them the only ones in the bar.

"What else is on the menu?" Sam asked as he picked it up.

"Can you two not fight?" Dean demanded. "I think you scared her off!"

Sam shrugged. "You don't need her around anyway."

"And if she needed me around?" Dean asked pointedly.

Sam's eyes snapped to his. "She wasn't, uh, one of your jobs, was she?"

"Not technically," Dean admitted. "She was Castiel's job, I was just helping out a little."

"Castiel was...?" Sam nodded to the empty chair at the next table where the angel had been sitting.

"Yup." Dean drank some of his beer. "Dude, you really need to learn to be a little more...forgiving?"

"Oh, shut up," Sam snapped irritably. "And what was that crap about a bad break-up? That wasn't true."

"No?" Dean grinned at his brother, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I wouldn't call it parting on good terms."

Sam leaned back in his chair with a groan. "Really learning to work the truth angle there, Dean."

"Thanks. Jokes don't count so much in the whole truth thing, by the way." He chuckled as he motioned for the bartender to bring another round of potato skins. "Want anything else?"

"Nah. It's fine," Sam said agreeably. "Whatever you want."

Dean noticed his brother and the dog settle down and relax now that they were here alone. He wasn't sure if it was just the angel's presence or the girl's or both that had had them on edge, but he would take the good times when he could.


End file.
